


Before You Go

by AnneCumberbatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Goodbyes, Loss, inadequacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during The Riechenbach Falls. Sherlock allows the hopelessness of his situation to control him and, knowing what awaits him, imparts John to memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before You Go

"John.." Sherlock sighed from where he lay on the sofa, his right arm draped off the end.

John looked up from his desk where he was working. "Hm?"

"John, what if I'm a failure after all? What if everything they're saying about me is true?" Sherlock's voice was quiet and his eyes were focused on the ceiling. His eyes traced the small crack running out from the molding. 

John paused and frowned. "What?"

A moment of silence filled the flat. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the mantel. Sherlock's left hand was resting on his chest and he fussed with the buttons on his dress shirt. "What if I am a failure as the world is so forcefully saying. What if this entire thing has been a great charade." 

John exhaled. "What are you talking about? Have you been using again?" He closed his laptop and rested his hands on top, interlacing his fingers. 

Sherlock glanced at him. "John, I'm serious."

John sighed. "Well.. I doubt that you are a failure like the world is saying. For one, you are actually a rather intelligent person. For another, you have solved quite a lot of cases, Sherlock. Don't forget that."

Waving his right hand dismissively, Sherlock shook his head. "Irrelevant. The past is not the focus. Right now is what I'm talking about. If I can't defeat Moriarty, John, than I am a failure. The world is waiting for me to fall. Moriarty has set me up so perfectly..."

There was a shuffle as John pushed his chair back and stood. "I think you're overreacting. You'll beat Moriarty just like you've beaten every other case that's come your way."

Sherlock sighed and rolled over so his back was facing the room. As he took a deep breath, the material of his dressing gown expanded and contracted with the outline of his back. Silence came over the room again as John went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He looked at the contents and then shut the door. He wandered through the kitchen, opening the cabinets and peering inside before closing them again. "I need to go shopping." 

A muffled noise came from the other room as a form of response. 

John turned on the electric kettle and took down his tin of tea bags and a mug. "You really shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Sherlock. Really. You're just going through a rough patch. Everything will turn out alright." John turned back to the electric kettle a few moments later when it turned off on its own and poured the hot water into his mug, watching the tea bag fizz when the herbs and leaves inside came into contact with the boiling water. He looked up and started. "Christ, Sherlock!"

Sherlock was standing in front of him, looking at him with an unreadable expression. His eyes were locked onto John's face and they seemed to be pouring into his soul, soaking up the sight of John. 

"You can't sneak up on me like that, I could have broken something." John placed the kettle on the table. His dark blue eyes looked back at Sherlock's piercing grey ones. ".. what are you doing?"

Sherlock didn't move, his eyes going over John's face, but always coming back to look at his eyes. "John..."

"Sherlock, you're acting strange. Are you sure you haven't been using?" John walked around the table and grabbed Sherlock's wrist. He took Sherlock's pulse while looking into Sherlock's eyes. "Your pupils aren't dilated and your pulse seems normal.. are you feeling alright?"

Sherlock pulled away. "I'm fine, John."

John nodded and stepped back. He pushed his mug of tea towards Sherlock. "Here, this'll help. Maybe you just need something warm inside you. I have to go shopping anyways."

Sherlock accepted the gift and wrapped his long fingers around the mug, mindful of the burning sensation as the heat permeated from the porcelain mug and ate through his fingers. He nodded in thanks and closed his eyes as he inhaled the smell of the seeping leaves. 

John nodded in approval and went to pick up his coat from the back of his chair. "I'll get some things for dinner. Do you need anything while I'm out?"

Sherlock shook his head, his hands still wrapped around the mug.

John nodded and took his keys from the table and slid them into the pocket. "Alright then. I'll see you later."

As John turned to go out the door, Sherlock spoke. "John, wait."

John turned, a slight smile on his face. "Yeah?"

Sherlock took in the sight of his friend. His hair was mussed from John running his fingers through it earlier. There were lines starting to appear in his forehead from stress. His blue eyes crinkled in the corners, tiny wrinkles forming. His smile was small and yet accompanied all the warmth in the world. "Before you go.. I want you to know that everything will be all right."

John looked back at his friend and nodded. "Yeah, I know." He turned and walked down the stairs.

Sherlock continued standing in the kitchen, his burning hands still wrapped around the mug. He heard the front door close and closed his eyes, inhaling the spices of the tea. He raised the mug and lowered his head so his lips were millimeters from the edge. His voice was a soft murmur, but it seemed loud in the empty flat. "Everything will be alright."


End file.
